Freedom Feels Like Lonely: And other Stories
by The Starving Writer
Summary: 11 Han Leia centered stories, based on the album 'III' by Joe Nichols. More detailed explanation inside. This is NOT a song fic. Chapter Four is up!
1. Someday

_**A/N: **__I discovered this idea a long time ago, wandering around the internet. I don't remember exactly where I saw it, but I'm pretty sure it was on one of those challenge communities on Live Journal. I know, I know, I'm a terrible person for stealing other people's challenges and not posting them in the right place. But a challenge is fair game, right? _

_Anyways, enough about my moral failings. The goal here is simple. Take an album. For each track, write a corresponding short story/ vignette. I chose 'III' by Joe Nichols, and I think you'll see why.  
_

_NOTE: These are NOT song fics. The lyrics are not actually used in the song. Unfortunately, I can't post a link here to get to the lyrics, so if you want to see them (and I recommend it) I suggest www dot sing365 dot com. Search for "joe nichols" or by song name. Sorry for any inconvenience! _

_Enjoy_!

**_TSW_**

* * *

_**Inspired by:**_

**Size Matters (Someday) **

Written by Byron Hill and Mike Dekle, Performed by Joe Nichols.

* * *

Word got around fast that there was a big-shot visiting the base. Some prince, or something, from the other side of the galaxy. Talk was, he was looking to form an alliance with the Rebellion. A matrimonial kind of alliance. But then, there were also rumors that he was surrounded at all times by a harem of fan-carrying, bare-chested women, so Han wasn't too worried. 

"Did you see him, kid?"

Luke didn't bother to look up from the wires he was patching. "Who?"

"Chief What's-He-Called."

"Oh. His name is High Lord Panisonicha, and yes, I met him."

"What's he like?"

Luke shrugged. "Nice enough, I guess. Why are you so interested?"

"Just curious, is all. After all, not much happening around here."

"Except for the war, and the almost getting blown up."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, I mean."

"Right." Luke went back to his repairs, but not before making it clear that he was unconvinced.

Han picked up his blowtorch. He's probably old, he thought. With wrinkles and a big mole on his face. He spent the next few minutes coming up with a variety of hideous deformities for the mystery leader. In fact, he was so wrapped up in making a monster that he didn't even notice when the real thing came through the door.

He saw Leia, though, and the arm she was holding.

"Han. Han!" Luke reached over and took the blowtorch before he managed to burn a hole through the ship.

"That him? Emperor Pansawhoosie?"

"Yes, that's him. Would you please pay attention-"

Han ignored him and stood up. The Princess was walking towards them, with the foreigner at her side. He wasn't quite as ugly as Han had pictured him. Truth be told, he was actually pretty good-looking. And young, Han noticed, suddenly feeling his age. The guy was loaded, by the look of him. Little bits of gold hanging all over the place, and diamonds the size of eyeballs on his hands. He said something, and Leia laughed.

That was what got him.

"Princess," he called.

She looked a little reluctant to acknowledge him, but he doubted the walking gold mine noticed the break in her diplomatic smile.

Han noticed, and was proud of himself for it.

"Hiya, Princess. You gonna introduce me to your new friend?"

Luke doubled his efforts with the soldering iron. He wanted to be fully repaired in case Han succeeded in starting a war.

"Lord Panisonicha," Leia said politely, with a warning look at Han, "This is Captain Solo. He's been aiding our operations as a freelance pilot." She emphasized the word "freelance". _Not one of us, _meaning _We don't take responsibility for his stupidity. _Han was more offended than usual.

"Nice to meet you, sir," he said, offering a greasy hand. The High Lord curled his lip.

"The pleasure is mine, really. Princess Organa, I was told you have a remarkable defense system…"He led her away. She laughed again at one of his jokes, (bad jokes, Han was sure) but it sounded too courteous to be real.

Han leaned back against the side of the sip. "Wonder what's got up his ass."

"Class?" Luke offered.

"I got class," Han said, a little defensively. "Just not as rich a class as he's got."

* * *

He saw her again in the hallway. (Looking back on it, he realized these things always happened in the hallway.) She was ahead of him, so he jogged to catch up. 

"Hey, Worship. Did your date get sick of us lowlifes?"

"_High Lord Panisonicha _is in the guest quarters, resting." He waited. _Go on, deny it. _But she didn't. Han felt his feet turn to stone, and had to hurry to keep up. She walked fast for someone so short.

"What's Lord Creditfingers doing all the way out here, anyway?"

She stopped and whirled around. He was surprised by how angry she looked. He hadn't even really tried to upset her yet. "Don't waste my time wit questions you already know the answers to."

"What are you talking about?" He had to be careful now. This could get ugly real quick, and the best defense, he'd learned, was to play dumb.

"Are you trying to tell me that the rumors that have been the subject of conversation amongst every single person in this entire army just happened to pass you by?"

"Something like that."

She rolled her eyes and walked away.

He cut her off. "Look, Princess, I just want to know if it's true or not. Is he really here to-"

"Yes, Panisonicha is here as a suitor. For me. You can tell all your buddies that." Han started to laugh. She put her fists on her hips. "What's so funny?"

"Well, he can't think- I mean, you're not going to- Are you?"

She looked around cautiously, and lowered her voice. "A marriage like this could save the rebellion, Captain Solo. We'd get allies, and they'd get protection from the Empire. Everyone wins."

"Everyone except you, you mean."

"Panisonicha is a wealthy man. I'd have a very comfortable life."

"But do you love him?"

"There's a thing called self-sacrifice. I don't expect you to understand it."

"I bet he doesn't love you."

"You don't know that- when did this become your problem?"

"It's not. I'm just saying, you deserve a good man, someone who can make you smile and not have to pay you to do it."

"You mean, someone like you?"

"Yes- No, I'm not involved in this. You go ahead and marry Prince Charming. No skin off my back."

She stomped away. "Maybe I will."

"Do it," he called after her. "But you'll remember what I said, someday."

* * *

Luke rubbed his hands together. "It is _really _cold here." 

"Don't blame me," Han said through the fur on his hood. He looked pointedly at Leia.

She tugged on a second pair of gloves. "Would you stop that? It's not like I knew he was an Imperial spy."

"I told you he was trouble. And you didn't listen."

"If I discharged someone every time you felt jealous, we'd have no army left."

"Jealous? That's wishful thinking, sweetheart. Sure sign of desire. I always knew you had your eye on me."

"I'm not going to grace that comment with a reply," she snapped.

"You'll come to your senses, eventually," he answered, unphased. "I have a felling someday will get here sooner than you think."


	2. Freedom Feels Like Lonely

_**A/N: **So you made it through Chapter One. My many, humble thanks to you. This song is the reason I chose 'III'. It's absolutely perfect.  
_

_Hope you enjoy, _

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**Freedom Feels Like Lonely**

Written by Tony Martin, Billy Currington, and Mark Nesler. Performed by Joe Nichols

* * *

No one comes out of a first fight uninjured. 

Not just a squabble, or the hard-headed bickering their relationship had grown up on. A real fight, when you slam the door and aren't sure you'll ever walk back through it again.

Han stretched back in his seat. It felt good, flying solo once again. Not even Chewie was there to guilt him into turning around. Just him, the ship, and the open sky.

He hadn't been out an hour when his thoughts caught up with him. Before he knew it, his mind was on her again, wondering what she was doing now. Probably working, he assured himself. He'd never stopped her from working before. It wasn't a fair accusation, and he knew it. But he needed to keep the anger going, at least until he was out of the system.

He'd be free then. Free. He loved that word. Free to drink, to have fun, to let his eyes wander where they damn well pleased.

He nearly made it, too. Things would have turned out very different, if the thought hadn't struck him right then. The planet was approaching, its gravity reaching up with welcoming arms. But then, as it always did, his conscience kicked in and ruined everything.

_What if she's crying? _The idea stopped him like a blaster bolt to the chest. She never cried, not Leia. But he could see it, clear as a holograph. Leia, abandoned, sitting in their big bed with her tears dripping down on the sheets.

Suddenly, he was aware of just how empty the _Falcon _was. The blissful silence turned to a roar that nearly deafened him. The ship expanded, until he was just a tiny, lonesome speck floating through the vacuum of the cabin.

It actually scared him. Leia was crying, and he was afraid. Things were not right.

As fast as his fingers could fly, he canceled the landing and turned around.


	3. Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

_**A/N: **_

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off**

Written by Gary Hannan and John Wayne Wiggins, Performed by Joe Nichols

Lyrics: size=1 width=100% noshade>They explained it away as a morale booster. Han slams back another shot of something blue and beautifully alcoholic. He doesn't know about the rest of them, but _his _spirits are in fine shape at the moment. It was one of the best kept secrets on the base. After all, how would everyone else feel if they knew the leaders of their cause snuck out now and then to get totally, irresponsibly drunk? Han knows he'd feel very left out.

Luke stumbles up to the bar with a young, blond thing latched around his neck. "Hey, bartender!" he calls, too loudly. "I'll have another one of those- uh, those green thingies with the fruit in 'em!"

Han raises an eyebrow. "You enjoying yourself, kid?"

Luke smiles and tries to reach for his drink at the same time. He succeeds only in nearly falling off the stool, sending the blond thing into a fit of giggles. "I'm not sure you need anything else to drink," Han says.

"Oh, let him have it." Wedge slides in next to him. Han isn't sure if he was invited or if the best- kept secret on the base is no longer a secret anymore. Probably the second one.

"Yeah," Hobbie agrees. "How else is he going to learn the error of his ways?"

Wedge looks at him. "I was just thinking it would be fun to laugh at him tomorrow morning."

"Wedge?" Luke cranes his neck to see around Han. "Is that- Whoah!" Again, his balance gives out, and he falls into Han. "Thanks, buddy," he says cheerfully.

"No problem. Listen, kid, why don't you go find a nice dark corner for you and your date before you break something."

Luke nods solemnly, as if it's the best idea he's heard all night. "Let's go," he says to the giggling mass at his side. They lurch away, and that's when Han sees it.

Leia's white jacket, thrown unceremoniously on a bar stool. Not hung up at the coat check, or even folded carefully and draped across the back of a chair. Ust dropped. Han walks over and picks it up. Underneath is a jumbled pile of hairpins and a single glove.

"Wedge, Hobbie? Have either of you seen Leia around?"

They both shrug and go on with their drunken impersonations of Luke. Han stands up to scan the crowd. He spots a few of the brass, acting well outside what's appropriate for their station, but no Princess. Instead, he spots a vest lying on the ground.

She's left a trail, it seems. A belt here, a shoe there. It's all pretty funny until he picks up a skirt.

There's a chorus of whistles and cheers nearby, and he doesn't really want to know the reason. Still, he turns his head, and there she is.

Dancing on a table, of all places, wearing but a lacy little slip thing. He rubs his eyes in desbelief. But there she is, hair down and all. It ain't too bad a sight, either, he thinks. "Leia!" he calls. She looks down at him and smiles.

"Han!" With difficulty, she jumps down and attempts to give him a hug. She misses by about two feet, but doesn't mind. "What are you doing with those?" she asks with a laugh. "You don't wear skirts."

"Neither do you," he points out.

She looks down and puts a hand over her mouth. "Oh. I think I may have dropped my clothes."

"Me too." The crowd is watching them. "Show's over, folks," he says loudly. "Honestly, what kind of sickos are you?" They wander away, reluctantly. Leia waves after them.

"The people are so friendly here."

"I bet they are, when you're that friendly to them. Um…" He shoves the clothing at her. "Here."

She wrinkles her nose. They're a mess of crumbs and dirt and spilled drinks. "What did you do to those rags?"

It's pretty clear she's not going to put them on, so he grabs the nearest tablecloth and wraps it around her. "What do you think you're doing, Captain Solo?" she asks playfully.

He doesn't bother to answer. It's a little hard to talk with her so close to him, and nothing but a red checkered sheet between them. Rieekan's coming towards them, and he doesn't look too happy. Leia salutes. "Hello, General."

Rieekan takes in the tablecloth and shakes his head. "What has gotten into you?"

"I'd say one pint too many of the house brew."

"Did you have anything to do with this, Solo?"

Han holds up his hands innocently. "I was just making a suggestion."

"We're going to have to find someone to take you home, Leia."

"Oh, that's not necessary. Really, I'm fine." She smiles winningly. Han didn't know she _could _smile winningly.

"I'll bring her home," Han says.

Rieekan narrows his eyes. "If you try anything funny… I will be forced to take matters into my own hands. Do I make myself clear?"

"Is there anyone here with a little bit of trust? Can't even offer to do something nice without you people getting on my back."

"Captain Solo…"

"All right, all right. I get it. Pilot's honor, she'll be safe and sound tomorrow morning." He puts an arm around her bare shoulders and guides her toward the door. She waves over her shoulder, and bids a friendly good evening to every being, beast, and appliance along the way.

Outside, it's bitterly cold, but she doesn't seem to notice. "Where are you taking me?" she asks.

"You're going to bed," he says, and pushes her up the ramp.

"Bed?" After a moment, her eyebrows jump up and she smiles slyly. "Are you suggesting something?"

There is no way for him to respond to that but keep walking and try not to look at her.

She doesn't seem to notice his discomfort. "You know, I think we stole their tablecloth."

"You were needing it more than the table." He picks up a clean-looking shirt and hands it to her. "Here. Why don't you, uh, put this on."

"THanks," she says, and drops the tablecloth.

"Oh, wow. Um, maybe you shouldn't' do that so much."

"Do what?"

"Never mind," he says, and hurries to the cockpit. _Stupid girl, _he fumes, starting up the ship. _What does she think she's doing, taking off her clothes like that, right in front of me? And what was _I _thinking when I agreed to put her on my ship? _He struggles not to think about her, lying on his bed, or the smooth white expanse of skin above the neckline of her slip.

"It's a nice night, isn't it?"

He spins around and immediately wishes he hadn't. There she is again, standing in the doorway. The shirt is nowhere to be seen. "Leia," He steps toward her, eyes on the floor. "You really should be-" The ship shakes beneath them, and she stumbles into his arms. "Oh."

Any other day, she would jump away like he had something contagious, or shout something sharp and degrading. But tonight she just stays there, leaning against him with her face in his chest. He doesn't mind much.

"You smell better than I thought you would," she remarks.

"Er, thanks, I guess. You know-"

"I bet you're a lot different than you want people to think."

"Now really isn't the best time-"

But she's on a roll now. She can't stand up on her own, but she can still talk. "I bet if someone really got to know you, they'd find out all sorts of things about you. They'd realize, you're really not that bad of a guy. You just keep it a secret, is all." She pauses, then whispers, "I have secrets, too."

The smell of her perfume is intoxicating. "Keep talking."

"Maybe we should stop keeping those secrets from each other."

Everything stops, even the hum of the ship around them. She looks up at him entreatingly. "What do you think?"

He can't think, not with her standing there half-naked and smelling sweetly of alcohol and perfume. So he let's her pull his head down to kiss him, full on the mouth. A single thought comes to him, before his mind shuts down entirely. _I am a terrible, terrible man. _

Suddenly her hands hit his chest. Her bare fingers feel like ice, and manage to shock him back into relative consciousness. She feels him falter and draws back. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just…"

"You don't want to?"

"No, that's not it at all." Part of him would rather jump into a pot of boiling oil than say this next bit. Unfortunately, there's no boiling oil around, and his stupid sense of morality has kicked in. "I just don't think it's a good idea right now." _Stupid, stupid Solo. _

Her face falls. "What am I doing? Oh, no. I'm sorry I bothered you." She staggers away down the hall.

"Leia?" Han follows after her.

She's curled up on his bed, and he can't help but remember just how young she is. "Leia, are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" she snaps. She puts her face in her hands. "I knew it."

"Knew what?"

"You don't love me," she says bitterly, and begins to rock from side to side. Han isn't sure what to say, so he sits down and pats her awkwardly on the shoulder. Suddenly, the rocking stops. He takes his hand away.

"Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything."

"It's not you," she says weakly. "I think I'm going to be sick."

* * *

"I don't want an explanation, Solo. I want my clothes back." He's never seen her this angry. It's understandable, after waking up suspiciously naked in someone else's bed. But still, he acts taken aback.

"Take it easy, Your Ladyness, and I'll go get 'em for you."

"Do not tell me to take it easy."

"Are you always this touchy in the morning, or is it just because I'm here?"

"I have the right to be touchy. You would be to, if you were in my position."

He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. It's habit by now. "I don't know," he says, leaning against the door frame. "I'd be pretty proud of myself, waking up in the bunk of a good looking guy like me."

He doesn't see what she hurls at him, but still manages to catch it cleanly with the side of his head. "Hell, woman, I was just joking!"

Later, as he eases ice onto his swollen purple cheek, he has to laugh. Because there, lying innocently beneath his bunk, is a single, little white sock.


	4. Talk Me Out of Tampa

_**Inspired by: **_

**Talk Me Out of Tampa**

Written by Carey Beathard and Don Sampson, performed by Joe Nichols.

_It has just come to my attention that does not like you to post links. I know it's inconvenient, but I highly suggest looking up the lyrics to the songs. They are the whole point, after all. I've been using sing365 dot com. Search for "joe nichols", and click on "Joe Nichols biography". There will be a full list of his songs. Or you can search for each song individually. Sorry for the inconvenience. I'm sure there's a reason they don't let us post links. Enjoy!_

* * *

Han Solo was not one to weigh options, ever. So it surprised even him to find himself babbling off reasons to leave.

"Think of the money we're gonna make," he said to Chewie. "Now that we can go out and get some real jobs."

Chewie only waffled sadly.

"And we'll be free to fly around, have some real fun. I mean, really, what's kept us here all this time anyways?"

The wookiee barked something in a slightly accusatory tone.

"Oh, that. Well, you shouldn't be letting yourself get too wrapped up in their little rebellion. Trust me, it ain't gonna get too far. And you won't catch me around when it falls, I can tell you that."

With a disappointed shake of his hand, Chewie growled in disbelief.

"No, I'm not lying," Han replied. "Really, Chewie, you're starting to sound like you want to stay on this ice cube."

He headed for the supply room. On his way he saw her. Quietly, he started off in the other direction. But it was too late. She'd seen him.

"Captain Solo." She had him cornered, so her pasted on his most carefree, charming smile and turned to face her.

"Yeah, your Highnessness?"

"I have to ask you to reconsider this."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you're being selfish and impulsive."

"Selfish? Funny, and I thought you'd be glad to have me out of your hair."

"She clenched her jaw. "This isn't about me. If you would just listen-"

"Save your breath," he told her. "I don't need your reasons."

And he didn't. What he needed was a reason to leave.

* * *

_**A/N: **Thanks for reading, and special thanks to Joe Nichols and Universal South Records for not suing me. _


	5. That's What Love'll Get You

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**That's What Love'll Get You**

Written by Carson Chamberlain and Mark D. Sanders, Performed by Joe Nichols

* * *

"Bye, Sally." 

"Good luck, Luke," the mechanic said, and walked away with a flip of her red hair. Luke sighed.

"Hey, kid." Luke ignored him, so Han knocked on the back of his helmet. "You still in there?"

"Wha- Oh, yeah. What is it?"

"Just, you know, an army of Imperials. But if you're busy, we can call them up and ask them to wait."

That got his attention. "Sorry," he said. "It's just, when she's around…" He smiled dreamily. "She's so beautiful."

Han shook his head. "You've got it bad, kid."

"Got what?"

The P.A. crackled to life. "Group 4, Solo, Janson, Skywalker, you are cleared for take off."

"Time to go." Han started up the ramp of his ship. "We'll talk about this later."

* * *

A few minutes later, Luke was flying peacefully through a smooth sky, as visions of Sally drifted before his eyes. His comm buzzed. Slightly annoyed, he answered. "What is it, Han?" 

_"Can I offer you some advice?"_

Luke rolled his eyes. "Go ahead."

_"Don't."_

"What?"

_"Just don't do it. Nothing good is going to come from that girl, trust me."_

"Don't be so cynical. Just because you're having trouble with-"

_"Hey."_ Han cut him off. _"We're not talking about me. Now listen. Suppose you do manage to get a date with her. You empty your pockets buying flowers and dinner, and she waits until she's eaten her fill to just to tell you it would never work out, anyhow."_

"What if it does work out?" Luke challenged.

_"Then it gets worse. You're cruising along, having the time of your life, and next thing you know you've got a bunch of little Skywalkers running all over you."_ Luke could hear him shudder. _"That's if you can even get her to look at you," Han continued, bitter now. "Some of them'll pull you around like you've got a shot, then refuse to even look at you, because they think you're beneath them, or something."_

Luke bit his lip to keep from laughing. "I thought we weren't talking about you."

Han didn't answer. Whether it was because of anger or the approaching Imperial fleet, Luke wasn't sure. He took a deep, sobering breath. Even Sally would have to wait when there was work to be done.

* * *

The _Falcon _and her X-Wing escorts landed back on base a few hours later, a little battered but still intact. Leia met them in the hangar with a glowing smile. 

"We won," she cried, and wrapped Luke in a hug. "Congratulations."

"Nice job out there," Han said. Before he could continue, Leia caught him in an enthusiastic embrace. She danced away without a word, leaving him dumbstruck. Slowly, his mouth crept up the side of his face in a sloppy grin.

"Love is a terrible thing, isn't it?" Luke remarked.

"Oh yeah," Han replied absently. "A terrible, terrible thing."


	6. I'll Wait For You

_**Disclaimer: **__**The Starving Writer has no affiliation with George Lucas, Fox Entertainment, or Joe Nichols and all other associated with the album 'III'. I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue me. **_

_**A/N: **This one was another of my favorites. It is meant to be a companion to 'Freedom Feels Like Lonely.' Hope you like it, _

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**I'll Wait For You**

Written by Harley Allen and Bill Anderson, Performed by Joe Nichols.

* * *

She'd waited, that night when they'd vanished like memories into the snow. All day the shields had been down, the doors wide open in hopes that they'd stagger in alive. The cold wind filled the base, and through chattering teeth people wondered what she was thinking. How could she believe they'd survive? Finally, the doors had to be closed. The sound of metal slamming shut crushed her as if she'd been stuck between them. But even as the odds rose with the snow banks, she sat awake in bed all night. And she waited.

She'd waited, for nearly a year, while they searched every corner of the galaxy to bring him back. There were no guarantees they'd ever find him, or that he'd be alive when they did. But still she saved her love for him, stored it away deep in her chest. Men came and went, some of them nice men indeed. It was crazy, she knew, to pass them up for a scoundrel who'd never said he loved her. And yet, she waited.

She waits, now, remembering all the times he's come back to her, and prays he won't break the pattern. The bed she sits on feels enormous without him in it, so big she might get lost among the blankets. Before she realizes it, the tears are sliding down her cheeks. Is her love, her faith, enough to make up for the things she said? Or is his anger stronger than a blizzard or a bounty hunter? She's not sure. No daring rescue can bring him home now, anyways. So she waits.


	7. Should I Come Home Or Should I Go Crazy

_**Disclaimer: **_

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**Should I Come Home (Or Should I Go Crazy) **

Written by Joe Allen, Performed by Joe Nichols

* * *

He's suspected it for a long time. From the beginning, really. The first time he'd seen them together, he could tell. They had something in common, but he wasn't sure what. He hoped that his absence hadn't given them time to find out.

"What's wrong?" She asked one night.

"Nothing," he replied automatically. If what he feared was true, he couldn't afford an argument. So he pulled her closer as if his arms alone could hold her there.

Her friendship with Luke had intensified while he was gone. Sometimes, it was like they could read each other's minds. It was unsettling, for sure. But did it mean there was something more? What if he was just nervous, and seeing signs where there were none? He couldn't bring himself to take that chance.

He tried to push it aside when there was a rebellion to lead. But finally, seeing them together on the bridge on Endor, he can't hold his suspicion at bay any longer. He confronts her. Every bit of him hopes she'll deny it, even if it's a lie. She doesn't.

It almost ends there. He nearly turns his back. But he can't. When she asks him to hold her, he can't refuse. He doesn't want to.

It's not a solution, but at least it's a start.


	8. My Old Friend the Blues

_**Disclaimer: **__**The Starving Writer has no affiliation with George Lucas, Fox Entertainment, or Joe Nichols and all others associated with the album 'III'. I'm not making any money off this, so don't sue me. **_

_**A/N: **This one is short, and probably not the best, but it was the hardest one to write. I really couldn't think of any characters who would wallow in self-misery like in the song, so I made a few creative interpretations. Thanks for reading, _

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**My Old Friend the Blues**

Written by Steve Earle, performed by Joe Nichols

* * *

Not many people understand how his best friend can be made of metal. They shouldn't act so surprised. People practically keep droids as pets these days. If they can love a robot, he can love his ship.

Their relationship is perfect. He keeps her fed and healthy, and she takes him wherever he feels the need to run. No hidden taxes, no expectations, no sudden betrayals. Nice and simple.

The problem with people is that they get their own ideas. He can't trust them like he can the _Falcon. _She's not gonna ruin his plans by batting her eyes at him or pulling a guilt trip, the way _some _people do.

He'd take a mechanical heart over the real thing any day.


	9. As Country As She Gets

_**Disclaimer: **_

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**As Country As She Gets**

Written by Wendell Mobley, Jim Collins, and Tony Martin, Performed by Joe Nichols.

* * *

"What are you doing?" 

"I'm getting dressed. Why?"

"Don't you think that's a little… fancy?"

Leia looked down at her dress. "No. We're going out for dinner, aren't we?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "But it ain't exactly that kind of place."

She laughed. "Just because you only own one set of clothes doesn't mean I'm overdressed."

"If you say so."

She changed her mind when they got there. "Oh," she said, taking in the neon and peeling paint. "I guess it's _not _that kind of place."

"They have great sandwiches."

"I'm sure they do." She smiled to cover up her disappointment. "Let's go inside."

By the time the drinks came, Han was pretty sure he'd made a mistake. She didn't seem to appreciate the many screens broadcasting pad races, of the noisy rhythm of the gaming tables in the back. Still, she smiled at him and sipped her drink with barely a grimace at the cracked glasses.

Halfway through the sandwiches, she almost seemed to be enjoying herself. She was laughing, at least, even as she wiped hot sauce from his face.

"Well, hey there, sweetheart." A short man in a tattered top hat leaned over the table. "What's a well-dressed woman doing here with this loser?" Han reached instinctively for his blaster, but Leia gave him a warning look. The man didn't notice. "I could take you places," he continued. "Really nice places, if you catch my drift."

Leia stood slowly. Dressed in her gown, she looked like a queen against the backdrop of the diner. The man stepped back. "Do you know who I am?" she asked calmly. The stranger shook his head. "I am a senator of the Republic, and you will treat me as such."

"Forgive me, Senator," the man pleaded. "I didn't mean to offend you. Please don't send me to jail."

She hid a smile. "General, let's go."

The man watched, wide-eyed, as she strode out the door. Outside, she burst out in laughter.

"You could have just let me shoot him," Han said.

She shook her head. "My way was less messy. And it got us out of there a lot faster."

"You hated it that much, huh?"

"No. The food was good," she said. "But I only need one scoundrel in my life.


	10. Honky Tonk Girl

_**Disclaimer: **_

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**Honky Tonk Girl**

Written by Joe Nichols, Steve Dean, and Will Nance. Performed by Joe Nichols.

* * *

To think, after all her adventures and near-death escapes, she would end up in a desk job. Leia looked out the window once again at the busy hum of the city, rushing on, passing her by. She sighed, lost in daydreams of a former life when every day was a test of her strength and tomorrow was never a certainty. At least, that's how she remembered it.

Suddenly, a shout pierced the paperwork silence. Leia snapped to attention. Down the hall, someone screamed. Her secretary gasped. "Out the window," Leia ordered her. "Go along the balcony, and make sure everyone else gets out." The secretary sat, frozen to her chair. A shot rang out. "Now," Leia barked. She gave the younger woman a shove.

"Yes, Senator," the secretary squeaked, and wriggled through the open window. Leia pulled a blaster from her desk drawer. The weight was reassuring, the grip comfortable in her hand. She headed for the door.

The hallway was empty, but there were voices coming from the lobby. Security would be on the way, but she wasn't going to wait. She leaned against the wall and looked carefully around the corner.

The receptionist cowered behind the desk. A security guard lay slumped across the steel countertop, presumably the victim of the one shot. His killer looked to be one of three beings dressed in black robes. They wore full-face masks and carried impressively large rifles. Raising her own weapon, Leia stepped into view.

"In the name of the Republic, I order you to drop your weapons," she commanded with practiced confidence. The attackers only laughed, a tinny, mechanical sound.

"Your little toy does not scare us. We will not be ordered away," one replied.

Leia placed her blaster on the floor and raised her hands. "Then perhaps we can reach some sort of agreement."

"That's not likely," the nearest said. "Unless it involves your pretty little head mounted on my wall."

Leia shrugged. "Very well." In a split second, the blaster was back in her hand. Three shots, three flashes, and that was all.

The head of security charged in and stopped short. Leia smiled innocently, blowing away the smoke from her blaster. "Nice of you to show up," she said. Her days in the field were long gone, but she was still a soldier at heart.


	11. Just A Little More

_**Disclaimer: **_

_**A/N: **Here it is, the last track. I hope you've all enjoyed my humble little offerings to the world of Star Wars. Drop me a review and let me know what you think! A hundred thanks for reading, _

* * *

_**Inspired by: **_

**Just A Little More**

Written by Joe Nichols and Donny Lowery. Performed by Joe Nichols.

* * *

The pile of credits in front of him keeps climbing higher, just as the level in his glass recedes. With a few more hands, he could walk out the richest man on the strip. But then she calls, and wants him home.

"You've been out all night," she says. "And I've been waiting up for you."

"Just a little while longer, sweetheart," he tells her. "I'm having a good night."

"Han, it's late. Just come home, already."

His adversaries laugh at her concern. "Oh, it's past little Solo's bedtime." Their mockery and his alcohol don't mix well.

"You've got no right to give me a curfew," he says angrily. "I'll come home when I'm ready to." And he hangs up.

Two hours later, he walks tired and empty-handed into the bedroom. She gives him a cold look before rolling over. "I'm sorry," he says to her back. It doesn't answer.

"Some on, Leia." He sits down next to her. "I was stupid."

"That you were," she replies.

"Can you forgive me?"

She says nothing.

"What am I supposed to do? I apologized."

"Sometimes that isn't enough."

They sit there for a while, staring at each other through the darkness, caught in their impasse like statues. The Wounded Woman and the Man Who Asked Too Much. Finally he leans forward, takes her hand and kisses it as if for luck. "One more chance?" he pleads.

She sighs. "Just one more. That's all I can give."


End file.
